Romione Drabbles
by SufferingStarlight
Summary: A collection of one-shots about Ron and Hermione. Each chapter is a different scenario. If you've got any requests or suggestions please comment them. Read inside A/N for more info on each.
1. Slughorn's Party

**A/N: This is an imagined version of what would've happened if Hermione and Ron had gone to Slughorn's party together. I quoted a bit of the book in chapter 14, the dots are meant to represent placed where it was just talking about Harry, and I didn't feel like writing that out. If you've got any ideas for drabbles, please tell me, I've got a few, but I'd love more. I really liked one's that have to do with what would've happened if they'd decided to do something different in a situation, the story flows better if it based slightly in the book. I did use some of the description of the room straight from the book if you're wondering. Just FYI I know the mythical creatures I mentioned are like real (real in the sense that I didn't create them), but I made up their actions, so that probably isn't what Snotlings and Vampire Cats do. Okay happy reading.**

" _ **Slug Club**_ _," repeated Ron with a sneer worthy of Malfoy. "It's pathetic. Well I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with Mclaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug-"_

" _We're allowed to bring guests," said Hermione, who for some reason had turned a bright, boiling scarlet, "and I was_ _ **going**_ _to ask you to come, but if you think that it's that stupid then I won't bother!"_

…

" _You were going to ask me?" asked Ron, in a completely different voice._

" _Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you'd rather I_ _**hooked up with McLaggen**_ …"

…

" _No I wouldn't," Ron said in a very quiet voice._

…

 _Hermione looked flustered and immediately started fussing about for her copy of_ _ **Flesh-Eating Trees of the World**_ _to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods; Ron, on the other hand, looked sheepish but also rather pleased with himself._

Ron paced the hall waiting for Hermione. He'd thought he'd finished getting ready a while ago. However, every few moments he kept walking back to the mirror hanging on the castle wall outside the Gryffindor common room.

"Honey, your hair hasn't changed in the past four seconds," A portrait informed Ron. He glared at the boney looking witch in the portrait to the left.

"The mirror is dirty, how am I supposed to know if what I'm seeing is accurate?" Ron whined.

"Is he finally getting a date?" A warlock that looked rather like a whale began speaking in a thick cockney accent. "About time, I've seen every boy and girl in Gryffindor house out here with someone or another, except for you, carrot head."

"Oh shut up!" Ron snarled. "Aren't you Bartholomew the bloated? Suffered from an engorging charm yeah? No one could touch you, or you might've exploded, don't think you were getting much either!"

"Why I never!" The warlock, walked behind a hospital curtain in his painting. Some of the other portraits laughed at Ron's retort.

Suddenly Ron heard the creak of the portrait hole. He turned and suddenly the air left his lungs. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

Hermione had walked out into the hallway, grinning shyly at Ron. Her hair was still frizzy as normal, but the curls were slightly more controlled, though Ron didn't think she'd used Sleakeazy this time. Her dress was a rosy pink, and tight fitting, with a v-neck collar, that showed the slightest bit of cleavage. Though it was only a small bit of exposed skin, Ron felt almost wrong for seeing it, when Hermione was usually so covered up in her black robes. The dress was moderately short, and her tan legs seemed to go on for days. Ron couldn't quite believe the beauty he was seeing.

"Hermione!" He breathed, staring into her chocolate brown eyes. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks," She said quietly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You look really handsome Ron."

"Oh, uh thanks," Ron said looking down at his slightly frayed robes, wishing he'd had something nicer to wear. He'd wanted to look perfect, but he assumed he probably just looked like an idiot.

"Shall we go then?" Hermione asked gesturing to the hallway.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Ron said, and shuffled to her side. Ron fumbled with the sleeve of his robe, trying to take Hermione's arm. He ended up flinging his arm out and smacking her a bit too hard in the arm.

"Sorry Hermione!" Ron said immediately, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"Get a grip boy," one of the portrait ordered.

"Shut up!" Ron hissed back, and Hermione bent her head to hide her smile.

"It's okay Ron," she assured him.

"This robe is Fred's, and it's too long," Ron moaned. "I was trying to take your arm, but I can't control the sleeves."

"How about we just hold hands?" She suggested.

"Alright," Ron agreed, a bright grin filtering onto his face. Hermione tangled her fingers in his and he felt warm all over. The two of them walked the first bit in silence, trying to think of ways to break the awkwardness. Then Ron began asking Hermione if she'd done the homework for Mcgonagall and she immediately began to spout off what she'd found interesting about their assignment. Soon they were talking and laughing easily. They both began to think maybe this wasn't so foreign after all, it was just like most days; only they both had a warm feeling in their tummy and a swelling in their hearts.

"I really like your hair by the way," Ron said after they'd experienced a few seconds of silence.

"Oh thanks," She said twirling a strand around her finger. "I was worried it was still too puffy."

"No it's great," Ron said immediately. "It's still you, I like it better than what you did for the Yule Ball, you looked so different. I like how you look regularly."

Hermione was smiling so bright she could've lit up the entire corridor. She kept her magical smile as they continued to talk. Ron felt joy pumping through him at the thought that he'd been the cause of that smile.

Finally they reached Slughorn's office where the party was being held. They could hear the noise of enjoyment from outside. Ron took a breath, wondering if this moment would change everything.

"Shall we go in then?" Hermione asked quizzically. She didn't quite know why Ron was waiting so long.

"Yeah," He said gruffly. Suddenly he felt anxiety clench at his heart. Unfortunately when Ron became nervous or stressed he usually acted out or brooded, without telling anyone else what the actual problem was.

The two entered the room. The room was draped with tapestries making it look like they were inside a tent. The room was very crowded, but a general feeling of merriment filled the air. Smoke surrounded some old warlocks in a corner, and golden lamps bathed the room in a red light.

"I think there are real fairies in those," Hermione said passively, as she watched the lights flutter.

"Yeah well, let's go get something to eat," Ron said, pulling her along. Hermione frowned at his change in attitude. The two drifted over to the food table, and Hermione picked up a oddly colored biscuit.

"This is delicious," Hermione spoke through a half full mouth of what she assumed what a cherry biscuit.

"Yeah?" Ron asked slowly. Hermione decided to take the initiative to cheer him up.

"Taste some," She held the biscuit up to his lips, his cheeks burned, but he took a bite.

"Like it?" She asked, moving slightly closer.

"Yeah," Ron said, swallowing with a loud gulp.

"Oh, hello Hermione, hello Ron" A dreamy voice called to them. Ron and Hermione turned to see Harry and Luna approaching them. Harry looked a bit distracted.

"Hi you guys," Hermione said cheerfully.

"Hi," Ron echoed.

"What have you been up to?" Luna asked gently.

"Oh just trying some of the food," Hermione held up her biscuit, and Ron nodded.

"Oh Hermione, don't eat that," Luna shook her head worriedly. "Snotlings often like to exchange the cherry filling in biscuits and doughnuts with Vampire Cat blood."

"Well we both ate some and we feel fine," Ron said dismissively.

"Well you wouldn't know yet would you," Luna said a bit harshly. "The Vampire Cat only attacks on the twelfth and twenty seventh day of the month, but now that you have its blood in you it'll be able to find you more easily."

Hermione had to press her head against Ron's shoulder to hide her laughter. Ron grinned at Luna.

"What precautions do you suggest we take?" Ron asked, and felt Hermione smack his back.

"Oh you've got to kill a bat on the full moon, after it's eaten a luminous blood beetle, and hang it upside down over your face while you sleep."

"So a simple fix then," Ron said with a chuckle, and Hermione was having trouble hiding her laughter again. Luna glared at him a bit.

"Harry mate, you haven't said anything," Ron called to his friend.

"Yeah Harry, you look distracted," Hermione commented.

"I'm just trying to avoid Slughorn, I'm sure he'll want to show me off to everyone," Harry said, adjusting his glasses.

"Ah, yes, his prize jewel," Ron nodded.

"Would it help if I mentioned he is right there beside that man who appears to be a vampire?" Luna asked casually.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed alarmed, and dragged her away quickly.

"Bye Ron and Hermione," She called in a sing song voice.

"Hey you two," Ginny smiled at them congenially.

"Oh Ginny you look lovely," Hermione smiled at her friend kindly.

"You do too Hermione," Ginny said looking over Hermione. She gave her brother a

knowing look and grinned wolfishly.

"You know," Ginny said casually.

"I hear there's a really good snogging spot over there, behind that curtain, in case you're interested," Ginny said mischievously. Ron and Hermione both turned bright pink.

"I don't like that my little sister knows where the good snogging spots are!" Ron snapped, and Ginny shrugged, still grinning. She then grabbed a lemon drop, and popped it in her mouth. As she moved past them she pinched Ron's arm.

"Got to put in more effort buddy," She mumbled. "She looks bloody bored out of her skull."

Ron glared after his little sister. He had enough anxiety about this night without her confirming his fears.

"Sod off Ginny," he hissed back at her, and she just grinned. Ron rolled his eyes grumpily.

"Ron," Hermione said worriedly. "Do you want to dance a bit?" She asked, desperate to make him cheer up.

"No," Ron said, now too moody to try to improve things, more and more anxious thoughts were filling his brain.

"Oh this is just like you," Hermione huffed. Ron was surprised, he didn't think Hermione would tell him off at the party. He'd assumed she'd wait till they were back at the portrait hole.

"Hermione," Ron whined slightly.

"No, Ron you said you wanted to come, and now you pull this?" She asked, hands on her hips.

"Let's not fight here," Ron said, looking around, worried that everyone here would know of his failure on his first date.

"Fine then!" She snapped, pulling him towards the back of the room, where there was a space behind one of the curtains.

"Now tell me," She demanded. "Tell me what is wrong, because you always are so passive-aggressive, and I never know what I've done!"

"I just," Ron began, looking at the ground ashamedly.

"Yes?" Hermione tapped her foot.

"I'm sorry Hermione," Ron said quietly. "I'm just so damn nervous. I really wanted this to be a good night, but what if it isn't what you expected."

"Ron," Hermione's voice had softened considerably. "All I wanted was to spend time with you."

Ron's heart swelled, and he felt himself turn red. He cleared his throat, and tried to hide his smile, but then he remembered what he'd been saying before.

"But Hermione, you can't blame me," Ron said defensively.

"What," Hermione laughed. "Am I _that_ hard to please?"

"No, Hermione you don't get it. I'm competing with a bloody world famous quidditch player!"

"Huh?" Hermione asked.

"Krum, Hermione," Ron said, looking in her eyes.

"Oh," She blushed slightly.

"I just can't get his face out of my head, and you and him," Ron was still blushing profusely. "And I just keep worrying that it'll come to the end of the night and you'll think there was no spark. I don't want that to happen, because I really like you Hermione, I want this to work, I don't want you to be bored with me."

Hermione looked at him hard, as if trying to figure out whether or not he was being sincere. Ron looked back at her, forehead wrinkled in a determined look came over her face, and she grabbed hold of Ron's robes, pulling him down to her level. She pressed her lips to his roughly.

Ron was stuck in place for a moment. He couldn't believe what was happening. Was Hermione Granger actually kissing him? In all his dreams, and fantasies, it had never felt as good as this.

Finally he unfroze himself and wrapped his arms around her enthusiastically. Her lips were still moving on his fiercely, and he felt like his whole body was on fire. Her hands went around his neck and knotted in his hair, and his hands slipped lower down her waist. Soon she'd walked him against the wall, and he was glad for the curtain hiding them.

Suddenly Hermione removed her lips from his, and began to kiss and suck on his neck. A rapid tingling feeling ran through his body, like he'd touched a live wire. She felt so good, she was so soft, so curvy, and she fit against him so perfectly.

"Bloody Hell 'Mione," Ron groaned. "I've dreamed of this for so long," he let slip out and she stopped kissing his skin. She looked up at him with tears of happiness in her eyes.

"Me too," She smiled brightly. "And I think I like that nickname," she said sheepishly.

"What? 'Mione?" Ron asked, grinning so broadly it almost hurt.

"Yeah," She blushed.

"'Mione," He mumbled against her hair, as he kissed her temple.

"Kiss me again Ron," She said in a small voice. Ron dipped his head down and kissed her

passionately. As the kiss became more wild, Ron felt as though he were a balloon swelling with happiness. His hands were low on her hips, squeezing, as he kissed her throat.

Hermione felt like she was on fire. Every place Ron touched was like he was zapping her with electricity, and she loved it. She knew she could easily get addicted to this, to the feeling of his slightly chapped lips kissing every inch of her skin. His hands were large, rough, and calloused from Quidditch, and she wanted them all over her. The build up they'd both felt for so long was finally being released, and euphoria was filling the two Hogwarts students to the brim.

"Fuck 'Mione," Ron slurred as he felt Hermione grind against him slightly. "Your lips feel like velvet, and your lips taste like strawberries," He mumbled into the skin of her neck, she sucked gently on his earlobe. She seemed to like when he was honest with his feelings.

He moved his mouth down to her cleavage, sucking and nipping at any and all exposed skin. His left hand ran up her thigh, and under her dress. He ran his hand along the waistband of her panties.

"Oh Ron!" Hermione gasped, and Ron felt himself become even more flustered by her breathy moan. Her chest heaving with pleasure.

"Ron? Hermione?" They heard someone whispering. It was Harry.

"Fuck, Bloody Hell, shit," Ron began blasting off curses.

"Ron!" Hermione giggled, still slightly out of breath. He watched her flatten her hair and dress, she was so damn beautiful.

"I'm going to kill him," Ron mumbled.

"Stop," Hermione hit him slightly, but she was still looking happy and smug.

"I will," Ron promised taking her hand. "Or I'll make up some idiotic story about Malfoy, and he'll get all in a tizzy, and leave us alone for a while."

"Don't worry, we'll find time to be together.. if, I mean if that's what you want?" Hermione ended cautiously.

"Hermione," Ron rolled his eyes. "What have I just been going on about?"

"Sorry," She said looking down. Ron felt a bit bad, after all, there were times he'd led her on, and treated her badly, she had a right to question him.

"I can't wait," He whispered in her ear, kissing her cheekbone gently. She looked pleased, and content.

"Guess we'd better go find Harry," Ron said grimacing. Hermione nodded, and they began to step out from behind the curtain.

"By the way Ron," Hermione mumbled as they approached Harry. "I never did that with Krum."

Ron's ears went red, and his smile was pleased, if not a bit smug. The brightest witch of their age had chosen him over super star Krum, and The Boy Who Lived, for that matter.

"Hey Harry," Hermione called to her very concerned looking friend. Harry whirled around, and looked at them with eyes as large as plates.

"Where were you two?" Harry demanded. "I circled the room twice."

"Oh we were around," Hermione waved her hand. "You must've been distracted, you look awful."

"Yeah well, I've got awful news," Harry said an anxious energy pulsating off him. "We've got to go somewhere else to talk though, too many people here."

His two friends nodded, and they began making their way through the crowd. Ron heard Hermione mumbled a spell, but didn't quite catch it. He was about to ask her what she had done when a server passed with some fire whisky. He grabbed a glass downing it quickly. He hoped the burning taste would purge his mind of thoughts of Hermione naked in his bed, screaming his name, and jolt him into a more focused mood so he could pay attention to whatever Harry was so bothered about.

"By the way Ron," Harry said absentmindedly. "You've got marks all over your neck, are you allergic to that robe?"

Ron's eyes flashed to Hermione's quickly. She was hiding her laughter, but when she composed herself, he glanced at her chest. Her skin was clear, and as gorgeous as ever. It looked like his lips had never been there. Then he clued in that she must've covered them somehow with that spell. Harry was much too distracted to put two and two together.

"Yeah I think I might be, thanks mate," Ron said, giving a sly grin to Hermione, and adding in a wink for good measure. Hermione squeezed his hand happily. This night had definitely not left her bored.


	2. Painting a Warrior

**A/N: This is kinda an AU I guess, though no one really knows what the Trio did immediately after the war. So in this Ron takes up painting as a hobby and paints Hermione to help her get over some fears she had.**

In the months after the war a kind of gloomy peace covered the wizarding world. It may seem like a contradiction, but there is no other way to describe it. The gloom came from the overwhelming grief. So many had sacrificed their lives, so many loved ones had moved on. Azkaban was filled to the brim and many families were losing loved ones to the dark prison. Say what you will about purebloods, and Slytherins, but no one deserves to have both of their parents locked away, never able to see them again. However the new minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was working on getting visitation time for families. He also had banished all the Dementors. New positions opened up as prison guards which created new, and much needed jobs after so much money had been lost from all the destruction.

Unfortunately places that were also filling up were orphanages and Saint Mungo's. Children whose parents had been sentenced to death or life in Azkaban were put into the system since usually most of their relatives were on trial as well. St. Mungos never seemed to slow down, everyday a traumatized Death Eater's victim or a cursed witch of wizard would fall through the doors. The Healers had their hands full, and could barely contain the ill.

However, a strange sense of peace also covered the wizarding kind. This time they were finally sure, certain, that Voldemort's reign of terror was over. They knew that the Death Eaters or other evil witches and wizards were too disorganized and distraught to form any sort of alliance. People were finally accepting that things could gradually go back to some form of normal, though things would never be completely the same.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had felt odd ever since the war ended. Though it made them all feel guilty, to some extent, they felt bored. Their whole lives had been leading up to a moment that had ended, and though they were glad it did, they didn't quite know what to do with themselves.

Hermione had restored her parent's memory, Harry had been fixing up Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and Ron had spent 5 agonizing weeks in a house where booms and bangs no longer came from Fred and George's room.

In fact George hadn't left his room since the incident. Ron had said he'd only seen him three times, and he'd looked deathly pale and thin. Charlie had come to stay at home for a while, for his parents sake. Percy was wracked with guilt over Fred's death, and had put his entire life's energy into trying to make things right. He was an assistant to Kingsley, and hardly did anything but work. Arthur was quiet, preoccupied, always staring into the distance. Molly on the other hand was wild. She nagged and nagged until she was blue in the face. Anxiety and worry kept her up for hours and hours, she hardly slept anymore. She wouldn't let anyone do anything, Ginny couldn't handle the butter knives, Charlie could make floo powder calls to his colleagues, Percy couldn't pack his own lunch, Ron couldn't comb his own hair, Mr. Weasley couldn't go out and get rid of the gnomes in the garden and nobody, _nobody_ , could bring food to George but her.

Hermione was having her own troubles as well. The Muggle world had definitely taken hits, but nothing like their magical neighbors. Hermione found everyday more and more frustrating as she tried to explain to her parents the horrors she'd experienced. They just didn't get it, couldn't get it. Not to mention Hermione found herself becoming restless from a lack of school-work or world saving to do. She planned to finish out her last year of Hogwarts when it started up again, but according to most recent reports that might be another year.

Then there was Harry, the perpetually lonely boy. He spent his days walking aimlessly around Grimmauld Place, wishing some ghostly apparition of one his lost loved ones would appear. He'd only told Ron and Hermione this, but most says he still felt like he was recovering from dying. He still felt as though he were caught in the middle of a dream, as though nothing were really there. He kept expecting to hear Sirius's bark of a laugh, hear Mrs. Weasley yell Fred's name, Hear Lupin tell a story with a tired edge to his voice, see Tonks change her face, or even see Dumbledore peer over his spectacles at him. Sometimes, though rarely, he even expected to see his parents. It was odd to expect something he'd never experienced, but after his brief stint in the afterworld, and his meeting with them in the Forest, he couldn't help but sometimes imagine a flash of red hair, or a cheeky grin. Krecher made him meals, and tried to cheer him up, but Harry felt like a statue, like cold marble that couldn't be warmed. His favorite thing to do now was sleep, because sometimes in his dreams he'd see the ones he'd lost, and he'd get to apologize.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had seen one another at a Weasley family dinner, when Fleur announced she was pregnant. The first happy news in a while, and everyone pretended they were thrilled. Some of them were, but most of them were thinking about how George was still not downstairs.

The trio stayed up late into the night talking and talking and soon they realized that no one, no matter how hard they tried, could understand things the way they did. So Harry had come up with a solution, he'd rented a house, along a beach. The scenery was beautiful and the air was warm, and the living was nice. It was near enough the burrow that it could be easily visited, and Hermione could apparate to her parents wherever needed. Ginny visited often, as did Mrs. Weasley. Hermione's parents had also stayed a couple times. Finally something was working, this felt more healthy, more normal than anything they'd done so far.

Each of them had decided to try to take up new hobbies to distract their minds. A new task to help start a new age. Ron had decided to take up painting. Hermione had laughed at first which had turned Ron into a miserable angsty wreck until she'd apologized. It just seemed so un-Ron, but surprisingly he was actually good. It wasn't something you'd expect he'd have a knack for, but he did. Sometimes his work was abstract, but he was also rather good at figures. He mostly painted Hermione and Harry as they were the people he saw the most.

Harry's new hobby was Herbology, which he'd never really gotten into at school. Now he found it rather soothing to let him mind go blank as he watered his plants. He sometimes owled Neville about it. Ron often painted gorgeous illustrations of a unshaven Harry padding around his green house room, watering his plants.

Hermione on the other hand had taken up a Muggle hobby, the guitar. She practiced daily and of course had a skill for it, like she did most things. Ron secretly loved painting her as she bent over her instrument, focused, with her frizzy hair, and tired eyes, tongue sticking out ever so slightly as she formed the chord with her fingers. He also loved to listen to her play, though it was slow going, with pauses throughout, her gentle humming and strumming would often bring him peace when nothing else could.

"Hey 'Mione," Ron said softly, kissing her neck gently.

"Hey," Hermione responded, strumming a G chord. She wearing long sleeves even though the day was warm. She never wore anything that revealed her forearms anymore. She didn't like seeing her scar that spelled out "Mudblood" in jagged letters. She'd tried different salves, potions, asked different healers but the spell had been some nasty and permanent dark magic. Bellatrix had known all too well how make unhealable. Ron had told her time and time again she was beautiful no matter what, but she said she just needed some time. She knew she wouldn't cover up forever, but right now the wound was too fresh, she didn't want to look at it.

"You look beautiful today," He said sweetly.

"Thanks," she said, leaning back into him for a moment.

"Can you put the guitar down for a moment," Ron asked cheekily. "I want to kiss you more."

"Alright," Hermione sighed happily, and placed the guitar gently on its stand. Ron moved around so he was now on the couch beside her. He pulled her onto him, kissing her passionately. Their lips fit together perfectly, gentle and yet full of feeling. Ron dipped his head to kiss the velvet like skin of Hermione's neck. She smelled like the lilac shampoo she used and the fresh strawberries they'd eaten this morning. Ron hoped he smelled just as good, if not like the strawberries, then like the copious amount of syrup he'd applied to his pancakes.

Ron gently sucked on the skin of her throat. Hermione moaned lightly, and Ron felt that was all the reward he needed. He felt her hands travel down to his pants, unbuttoning them. His breath hitched as she began to palm him a bit over the fabric of his underwear.

"Mmmmhhh," he groaned into her neck. She lifted the other hand to move his face back up to hers. He sucked on her lip, brightening slightly, happy they were getting this far. Since the incident at Malfoy Manor, poor Hermione hadn't been able to go very far without panicking a bit.

Usually starting out like this and fooling around a little gave her no trouble, it was when her top was about to come off that she became jumpy. Ron was very understanding about it all, but he wished so much that she didn't have to feel this way. However, right now, things were going beautifully. The only labored breath he heard was full of need and not anxiety. Hermione's hands were all over him, rubbing and grabbing.

His hand ran up her blouse, thumbs running under her bra greedily. She pulled at his shirt, and immediately removed it. As he did he watched her lust darkened eyes flit over his torso.

"Ron," she said ever so gently.

"Yeah," he said back, pressing his nose against hers.

"You've got scars too, I've only just noticed," she traced the lines where the brains had squeezed him only last year. Her hands then moved up to his shoulder where a larger, newer scar sat. The scar from his splinching was still pink and a bit puffy. He'd been using a salve to help it go down, per Neville's suggestion, but it would still take a while before it disappeared completely. Unfortunately, the brains scars would mark him forever like Hermione's, the magic was too deep and dark for it to ever go away.

"Yeah," He said deeply.

"How, how do you do it?" She asked shutting her eyes for a moment. "How do you look at them?"

"I just know they're not who I am, and they're not my fault, well I mean the brains aren't. I'm a bit of an idiot, so the spliching might've been my fault."

"Oh stop, it wasn't," Hermione laughed.

"But see 'Mione, you didn't even notice my scars till now. I know mine aren't as traumatic as yours, but you've got to understand, nobody will be focusing on it as much as you do."

"I-I know, but it's like for the first time in my life, I can't believe the logical explanation. Usually I would depend on that solution, but now, my heart just won't believe what my brain wants it to."

"I know angel," Ron said kissing her forehead gently. "But it'll get better."

She nodded stiffly. Ron thought he saw a tear at the edge of her eye, but it must've been the light. He wanted to talk to her more about how she felt, about how she was so much more than that dumb scar. However, her response surprised him. She pressed her lips to his again, with a renewed hunger, biting his bottom lip seductively. Ron didn't know if it was healthy to avoid important conversations like this, but right now he couldn't quite think straight, as Hermione's hands roamed his southern region.

Hermione grinded agasint him slightly, sucking on his tongue. Her small hands touching his pale skin, sinking her nails in slightly as he moved his lips to her neck. He bit the skin there slightly, and she gasped. He flicked his tongue over where he'd nipped her.

"Oh Ron," She groaned. His hands moved up her shirt again, large hands grabbing and squeezing. He decided to approach the area they always cut it off. He began to lift her shirt slightly, to see if she was okay with it. She nodded, her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his lips on her throat. He lifted it higher, and now her midriff was showing. The green sweater was almost off, and Ron found himself getting harder at the thought of Hermione's exposed upper half.

He was about to lift it over her head for her when an pained sound emitted from Hermione's mouth. Ron immediately dropped the shirt, to see Hermione's face screwed up. She was trying desperately not to cry, but her chest was moving rapidly up and down. She was having a panic attack.

"Oh Love!" Ron said alarmed. He pulled her hair away from her face, and rubbed her back gently. "Just breathe."

"I'm sorry," She said finally choking on her tears. "I c-can't do it, I want to, I really do, but I can't."

"It's okay," Ron said soothingly. "Shhh, you don't need to apologize."

"No, Ron, because I want to," She mumbled into his chest. "I want to, I mean I really want to have sex with you," she said with a red face, and giggled a bit at the sentence. "I just can't take it, all the sensations, all the vulnerability.

"It's oka,y you don't need to, I can wait as long as you need," Ron said gently rubbing her back.

"I wish there was just some way I could ease into it," She said softly. They were both silent for a few moments. Then Ron sat up abruptly.

"Hermione I know!" Ron said excitedly.

"What?" She asked confusedly.

"Let me paint you!" Ron said energetically.

"Ronald," Her typical know-it-all tone was immediately implemented. "You have literally painted me at least fifty times, I mean every time I look at you, you've got a furrowed brow, and a paintbrush."

"No 'Mione," Ron rolled his eyes. "I mean let me paint you, naked."

Hermione's eyes widened, with a apprehension, but also a bit of excitement.

"Think about it," He said matter-of-factly. "You'll be easing into it. You won't have the pressure of sex, you can just relax, and get used to me seeing you like that," The tips of Ron's ears reddened with each word.

"It is a good idea….." Hermione said slowly. "Alright, let's do it!"

"Okay, but if you need to stop, you just tell me, okay?" He said gently.

"Okay," she nodded, grateful for her understanding boyfriend.

Ron ran to his room to get his painting supplies ready. Hermione followed at a slower rate, a bit worried, but also anticipating a good result. When she reached Ron's room, she locked his door. She started by removing her jeans. Ron didn't even notice as he set up his easel.

"Oh," Ron breathed, as he looked up and saw her only clothed on her top half. He nodded slightly, resolutely, trying to focus on the shape of her, and not how beautiful she was.

"Okay, now for the rest," She said slowly. She took off her bra, with her sweater still on. The white article of clothing falling to the floor. She then closed her eyes, and began to slowly pull up her sweater. She lifted it over her head, remembering to breathe slowly. Suddenly all she had left to do was pull her arms out. She did that slowly too, but it could only go on so long, and soon she was completely naked in front of Ron. Hermione opened her eyes to see a stunned Ron.

His mouth was hanging open, and his pupils were blown up. His entire body seemed to be red, and his hands were rapidly fidgeting.

"Hermione!" He drew out her name, his voice sounding very different. "You're bloody perfect." Hermione couldn't help but smile brightly. Ron was right, she felt much less pressured, and this was easier than she'd thought.

"Th-thanks," She said slowly. She could see it was taking quite a lot of Ron's self control not to come kiss her. She looked down.

"Um, I mean, how do you want to pose?" He asked her.

"Well can I lay down? I don't really want to stand for a long time," She said.

"Of course," He gestured to his bed. "Do what you want." She sauntered over to his bed, and made herself comfortable. She grabbed one of the books she kept for herself in Ron's room, because most nights they slept together.

"Perfect," Ron murmured. "Very you."

"Thank you," She laughed a little. "You know this is reminding me of The Titanic," Hermione said.

"What's the Titanic?" Ron asked as he dipped his paintbrush in the brown.

"Oh just a muggle movie," Hermione said. The two stayed silent after that, though Hermione was still very aware of her boyfriend's eyes on her. She didn't mind as much as she thought she would. She actually was growing to enjoy the feeling of him studying her. The hardest part was reading, but avoiding the corner of her eye catching the shiny white skin that said "Mudblood."

As she read her mind wandered. She pumped herself up to look down at her arm properly, to take it in. She was going to face her scar. She hadn't really looked at it since it happened. She'd been too busy with the war at first, and then she'd purposely kept her eyes averted. Now she thought she might be ready, Ron was right this was cathartic.

She took a breath and looked down bravely. The scar was smaller than she'd remembered it. Instead of looking gnarled or puffy, the skin was just slightly more pink and shiny than the rest of her arm. She'd spent so long looking away from it that she'd made it up in her mind to be some big awful thing, but in reality it wasn't that big. She could deal with this, this would be okay. At least that's what she thought until she started seeing flashes of the Malfoy's Manor.

Hermione's breathing became heavier. She felt the weight of Bellatrix's body pressing into her. The gaunt lady's bones ground into her own. She felt the pain reverberating through her, dark swirling of magic encompassing her. She was screaming, maybe out loud, maybe in her vision, but one of her was screaming. She heard Bellatrix's taunts, the nasty words, then something happened that hadn't happened in Malfoy Manor, arms surrounded her.

She curled into a ball on Ron's lap. He ran his hands through her hair. She could see the room again. It was bright with blue walls and yellow light filtering through the window. She was okay, pale, freckled arms held her tight. Her breathing regulated as Ron's lips moved against her ear, mumbling comforts to her.

"I'm sorry, this was too much," Ron apologized.

"No, it was good," She said slowly.

"How," Ron demanded.

"I definitely feel better, I looked at my arm, and I saw that place, but instead of it ending with despair, you were here. Soon I'll learn that if that particular vision ever starts, it ends with you holding me, it ends with me being okay."

"Damn right," Ron whispered into her hair.

"I feel stronger, for having one of those panic attacks and recovering," She mused.

"Good love," Ron said, still speaking quietly.

"Sorry you had such a short time to paint," She said, knowing he'd only gotten about an hour.

"Oh I'm done," Ron laughed.

"What?" Hermione was stunned.

"Yeah, when you've got enchanted paint brushes, it goes much faster," he explained.

"Can I see?" She asked.

"Of course," Ron lead her off the bed and to his easel. On the canvas there was a beautiful figure. Hermione was almost about to ask who was in the painting, then she realized this was how Ron saw her. She was absolutely breathtaking. The curves of her body, the curls in her hair, the gentle dimples in her back, it was all there, and it was all lovely. Hermione noticed there was something written on her arm where the "Mudblood" scar was in real life. Her stomach turned, she wished Ron had omitted that part. However, as she looked closer, she realized the word didn't say "Mudblood" it said "Warrior." Tears immediately sprung to Hermione's eyes.

"Oh my goodness Ron, It's so beautiful," She said wiping at her eyes to clear them so she could look at the picture longer.

"I'm glad you like it," Ron said kissing her temple from behind.

"I do, I love it."


End file.
